


Cold

by lvcoloredmagic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Petstuck, slavestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvcoloredmagic/pseuds/lvcoloredmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've always been cold, and you always will be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Slavestuck/petstuck (it's ambiguous) AU featuring Karkat. Just a short little thing, I've been writing a lot of these little AUs lately for my Beforus 'verse.

You're cold.

Shivering in a cement room with no windows, locked doors, you remain quiet. You've always been cold, and you always will be.

You're cold.

Stuck into a too-small cage, a dog crate, you try to not gasp in pain with every bump of the vehicle you're trapped in, being transported in. You cradle your broken arm against your chest, accepting that you'll always be cold.

You're cold.

You lost your best friend, no, your moirail today. She was taken away, sold off to some rich old woman. You hope she's happy there. Humans rarely seem nice, but there was something in this woman's deep green eyes, matching Kanaya's own blood color, and her weathered brown skin, that told of safety. She deserves it, deserves to be safe and happy and comfortable. She'll be fine without you. It's you that is left here now. You're cold. You'll always be cold.

You're cold.

Another house, another human, another nightmare. You suspect that this room is kept so cold that you can see your breath in the air (not that it's much of an achievement) on purpose, to punish you. For what? You only stay quiet, too terrified to do anything else. Maybe just for existing. You deserve it, really. You're wrong and you know it. The room is freezing, and you'll always be cold.

You're cold.

Your mutant blood on display for all to see, you stare down at the floor of the auction house, waiting, shaking silently but not enough to be noticeable. Your clothes are thin, worn and torn, and don't provide protection against the air conditioned room. The auctioneer comes over, starts talking about you in that fast voice, and you don't move. You've learned not to. A few voices call out bids, then one wins. You close your eyes, not moving until they direct you into the other room. It's even colder in here. You'll always be cold.

You're cold.

It's actually hot in the car, having been sitting out in the midday sun, but the heat barely seems to touch you. A combination of your too-warm blood and your too-cold fear leaves you to shiver. You dread what is to come. The voice of this human was kind enough, but you don't dare hope. You'll just be let down. You know better, and that's why you'll always be cold.

You're not cold.

Given warm, clean clothes and enough blankets and pillows for a small but more than sufficient pile, you curl up and close your eyes, a hood drawn halfway over your head. You're hungry, but you're more sleepy, and you can't keep your eyes open even if you try. You settle into the blankets, clutching one up to your face, and fall asleep. You're warm, and from now on, you won't have to be cold anymore.


End file.
